


For The Crew

by TheLOAD



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, GTA V AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 05:10:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3755626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLOAD/pseuds/TheLOAD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan would do anything for his crew, even die for them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For The Crew

**Author's Note:**

> First Fake AH Crew fic. Inspired by a prompt sent to a friend on tumblr. This was fun, and I definitely think I'll do more with the Fake AH Crew.
> 
> Leave a comment letting me know what you think.

Things had started out well enough. Just a simple drug deal in a warehouse downtown. Fairly boring, really. Nothing the Fake AH Crew hadn’t done before. They had been halfway through the deal when shit started to go wrong. Seriously wrong. First a sniper, one who had somehow gotten past Ray, put a bullet into the man they were working with. Everything has fallen absolutely to shit after that, with Geoff and Jack pinned down in one part of the warehouse, Ryan pinned down in another corner, Gavin and Michael pinned down in yet another spot, and Ray stuck unable to do anything with a sniper lazer between his eyes. It was La Sangrienta, a crew Ryan had worked for back when he was The Mad Mercenary, back when he had loyalties only to himself, and they weren’t happy about their best killer skipping town on them with a third of a cut from a heist.

Ryan stood up for a moment, just long enough to fire off a few rounds in a futile attempt to kill the other gang, before being forced back down behind his barrels. His mind drifted to an insane conversation Gavin had forced him into a long time ago and he shook his head. Not now. He had to stay focused. He heard Michael cry out and curse in pain and his stomach lurched. Gritting his teeth beneath his mask he hurled a grenade and was rewarded with the satisfying sound of someone in the rival gang dying horribly. But it wasn’t enough and they were all still trapped. Because of Ryan and his past.

“Just hand over the Merc and we’ll let you go,” the leader yelled. Ryan glanced to the side, over to where Jack and Geoff were, and even from a distance Ryan could see the look of hatred on his boss’ face.

“Not on your life, asshole!” Geoff yelled, standing up just long enough to fire off a flare and set a man on fire. Normally the sight would have been hilarious, but if Geoff was using flares that meant he had run out of other weapons, and Jack probably had as well.

“You want Ryan you can take him from our fucking corpses!” Michael yelled, his voice laced with pain.

“We can arrange that,” the leader said, pulling a rocket launcher from one of his cars and pointing it at the barrels Michael and Gavin were hiding behind. Ryan’s heart lurched in his chest and he stood up before he knew what he was doing.

“Stop!” He yelled. His gun slipped from his hand and he raised his hands in surrender, chest heaving and eyes wide and afraid behind his mask. “I’ll go with you. Just leave them out of this.”

“Ryan what are you doing?” Jack asked, but Ryan ignored him. His hands were shaking and his throat was tight as he waited to see what they would say. Whether they would take the deal or just put a bullet between his eyes before wiping out his crew. After what felt like an eternity the leader of La Sangrienta nodded.

“Get the fuck out,” he said, looking at Geoff. “If anyone tries anything we’ll shoot them.”

“We’re not leaving without Ry-” Geoff started, only for Ryan to send a glare his way.

“Just go, Geoff,” he hissed. “I’m not worth everyone dying.” From their hiding spot Gavin and Michael stood up, Michael looking murderous despite the blood flowing from his shoulder and Gavin, who was supporting Michael, looking devastated. After a tense moment Geoff nodded, shoulders sagging.

“Crazy motherfucker,” he muttered. “C'mon. We’re leaving.” They all left slowly, each one offering Ryan the look one would offer a condemned man. Once they were alone the leader walked up to Ryan with two of his gang flanking him, guns aimed right at Ryan’s heart. He circled Ryan, shaking his head as he did so.

“You crossed the wrong gang, amigo,” he said, before a sudden blow to the back of the head made Ryan’s entire world go dark.

———————–

When Ryan awoke he was in a different warehouse and tied to a metal pole. His mask was gone and his paint had run painfully into his eyes. He blinked in the harsh light, his head pounding, and when he could finally see again La Sangrienta were standing over him, each one grinning a horrible smile.

“Is this any way to catch up?” Ryan asked, instantly regretting his mouth when a steal toed boot drove itself into his chest, cracking a few of his ribs. He choked and gasped but regained his composure quickly, glaring up at them.

“That all you got?” He asked. The leader laughed and shook his head.

“Oh no,” he said. “We have much worst planned for you.” The sound of sloshing water hit Ryan’s ears and his stomach did flips when he saw one of them bringing over a rag and a bucket. Two of them grabbed his ankles and pulled him back until he was flat on his back, a heavy boot on his stomach keeping him from rolling over. The fear must have shown in his eyes because the leader laughed at him, looking down at him with a taunting sort of pity.

“You’ve gone soft, Vagabond,” he said. “It will still be fun to break you.” The shoved the rag in his mouth, tied a second strip of clothe over his mouth and nose, and slowly began do pour the water over his face.

He thrashed as best he could despite his chains and the men holding him down, thrashed desperately to get out of the water. His lungs burned and his throat felt tight as he drowned without any water entering his lungs. When he tried to breathe all he did was suck in water from the rag, which sent him into a painful coughing fit that only made it worse. The more he tried to breathe the more he choked. Finally the water ran out and he could breathe again, as painful and desperate as it was. They let him pant for a moment before continuing.

They cut him next, each one getting a short yet sharp knife and taking turns cutting him here and there, cuts deep enough to sting and bleed but not enough to kill. It was more annoying at first but as time passed his entire body was soon sore, and he flinched despite himself when the knife came near his already bloody belly. After that they took his fingernails, just because they could.

After that came electrocution, with them attaching a car battery to any part of his body that suited them. He kept his teeth grit at first but soon he was crying out, his voice hoarse from the water-boarding and the pain. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed but he knew they were getting bored, which meant they would soon either dump him somewhere or, more likely, put a bullet in him and walk away. The leader paced around Ryan, looking down at him, before stomping down hard on his thigh, hard enough to shatter the bone and drive it through his leg. Ryan cried out and almost vomited from the pain, fresh tears running down his face. While Ryan struggled to remember how to breathe the man stepped off his leg and pulled out a pistol, placing it firmly against Ryan’s temple.

“Say goodnight, Vagabond,” he said. Ryan closed his eyes, his mind drifting back to his Crew, to the closest thing to a family that he had ever known. New tears joined the old ones as he thought about everything he would never experience again, everything he would miss. Gavin would never ask him one of his stupid questions again and he’d never get to set off explosions with Michael. He wouldn’t wander into the house at 4 am only to find Ray still awake trying to get some new achievement and The Lads would never be able to force him into another Nintendo game he’d inevitably lose. Geoff would never tear into him again with a father’s worry and Jack would never gently force him into bed when it was clear that Ryan hadn’t been sleeping. Ryan was going to die alone in this warehouse and he was never going to see his friends, his family, again.

A gun clicked and Ryan’s body jolted, tensing up as though it had been shot. But when his heart kept beating and when no bullet tore into his skull Ryan opened his eyes, just in time to see the leader of La Sangrienta fall over dead with a sniper bullet in his head.

It was chaos after that, mostly because Michael had brought his mini-gun, and Ryan had passed out almost the instant Geoff had cut him free, cursing him out for being stupid as dicks. When he woke up he was in the hospital, one of the ones in Geoff’s pockets, and they were all around his bedside, bloody and worn, but mostly relieved that he had woken up.

“Never again, asshole,” Geoff said, the anger in his voice almost hiding the tears in his eyes. “Jesus Christ Ryan if we had been a second late….”

“You weren’t,” Ryan told him, reaching up and patting Geoff’s arm. “Wouldn’t have minded if you had been early, though.” This cut the tension somewhat, making everyone laugh, though it was mostly one of relief rather than joy or humor. With a wince that made them all frown Ryan reached up and pulled them all into a hug, taking an insane amount of comfort of just being near them all.


End file.
